"If that thing be industry, sir, I think I may promise that you shall
not have cause to complain,"

My father shook his head.

"Not industry," he said; "not industry alone. Keep good company, my boy.
Keep good hours. Never forget that a gentleman must look like a
gentleman, dress like a gentleman, frequent the society of gentlemen. To
be a mere bookworm is to be a drone in the great hive. I hate a
drone--as I hate a sloven."

"I understand you, father," I faltered, blushing. "I know that of late
I--I have not...."

My father laid his hand suddenly over my mouth.

"No confessions--no apologies," he said hastily. "We have both been to
blame in more respects than one, and we shall both know how to be wiser
in the future. Now go, and consider all that you may require for
your journey."

Agitated, delighted, full of hope, I ran up to my own room, locked the
door, and indulged in a delightful reverie. What a prospect had suddenly
opened before me! What novelty! what adventure! To have visited London
would have been to fulfil all my desires; but to be sent to Paris was to
receive a passport for Fairyland!

That day, for the first time in many months, I dressed myself carefully,
and went down to dinner with a light heart, a cheerful face, and an